The lava moved as the thickest of gravy, yet glowed as if it were made of fire. Upon the tops were cooling patches, Terry couldn’t decide if they looked more like stretched fingerprints or tree bark. Either way, they were a charcoal grey. The air had the odour of foul eggs, stench enough to make a person wish they could turn off their nose. And the heat, oh the heat! One could have cooked dinner even fifty paces away from that scorching river. And the sound! Oh, the sound! From miles away one could have imagined it was the snore of a titan who dreamed of eating rocks!
"Adjective and noun associations are worthy of our consideration because by careful linkage of words such as 'black' with strong emotionally positive words (such as in 'black heavens' and 'noble black night') we can start to program subconscious bias from the brain by creating a background neurochemistry that is more positive. This keeps the prefrontal cortex more fully operational and encourages more empathy in both thoughts and behaviours. Thus society develops better through their own choices and evolves. This is part of social evolution and this kind of awareness in writers is essential."
“One thing an ocean of caviar will teach you,” said Bruce, “is that those fish eggs belong to the water. The finest things in life can’t be bought and sold, enjoyable though they can be. Give me a mansion without love and I have nothing. Yet still, I would not live in a hovel. I would not dwell in the dirt and cold for the sake of appearing humble. So, what I’m saying is, heroes suffer more than most; that’s part of this way of living. So, take the good times when they come and let them warm your soul, ignite your smile and bring your feet to a merry dance. Yet these trappings of wealth are but chains and locks.”
Legend has it that the fire-dragon’s egg can only hatch in volcanic heat, bathed in amniotic lava. Furthermore, once born, they are not of flesh and blood - yet pure flame. They are as if the Gods themselves had painted them into existence with magma-oils. Even as newborns, or so it is said, the dragonlet is at one with the universe and all wisdom. They aren’t not born to learn as the human child is, yet forged as both the pen and sword of a world beyond the mortal curtain. Certainly, a fire dragon’s egg is never supposed to be found, nor befriended, least of all by a child of mankind - yet that is what happened on that fateful day.
The aroma of laval flow lingered, saturating the air as if all the town had eaten eggs for breakfast. The cooling basalt river was a monument to itself, sitting heavy on land that once blossomed with homes. Terry touched it, feeling its rough texture, running his hands along the flow as if it might move again. That’s when it happened. That’s when fate made a surprise move. The Gods had spoken, a dragon would meet a human child. Resting in a shallow crevice was an egg, its shell a cold flame yet as solid as that of any bird or reptile. Without a doubt, Terry knew his life had just changed forever - destiny had placed its hand upon him.
"For writers in the next half century and beyond, a comprehension of how creative writing, neurology, biology and our environment interact will be essential for a successful career."
- a link to the full article is in my bio and on the Descriptionari "About" page.
- you can email me using either AngelaCarolineAbraham@gmail.com or AngelaDescriptionari@outlook.com for a quote on tutoring and/or editing services.
Much love!!!
Angela Abraham (Daisy)
In that storm barely a house could stand tall. So bold was the gale, so fierce was the pelting rain, that even the smallest rotten beam could be its undoing. Beneath every door, from the window frames, came odourless fingers to goosebump the skin. Within its trembling walls, we prayed that upon its passing what was left would be enough to rebuild and renew.
It could have been dusk or dawn with those royal-blue clouds topping a long peachy grin. The marsh was black reeds amid the blushing ice of its winter-full ponds. It isn’t often we see this, thought Kipper, our home as if it were another world. Maybe getting up early is worth it. Maybe braving the cold air has a point. His eyes found in the distance, at the point of land meeting sky, and saw black tree-tops awaiting to be re-kissed green.
So long had the ground been frozen, pretty yet barren beneath the ice, that we had quite given up on the spring. March became April. April almost became May when the first of many green wands appeared. There they were, a bouquet of smiles, bravely heading up toward the sun.
"It turns out, as obviousness would have it, that our brains (especially those of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby in this case) have been teaching us neurology through comic books and the movies that have come from them."
Full article linked to from my profile, click "abraham" below, awesome!!
"When we make daily choices that are emotionally indifferent, the sort that the money-nexus makes faux-virtues of, we build our capacity for emotional indifference at the direct expense of our capacity for empathy, and thus the conflict between money and love is laid bare."